Serials and Scenarios - Fallen

Click on the book cover to visit the Amazon page with more reviews. And on his picture to visit Matthew Raley's website.

Book Description:

As Jim finishes a long day at work, his gaze lands on an expensive car pulling up to the coffee shop visible from his office window. His jaw dropped when the attractive young woman behind the wheel stops her car...and out steps his young, married pastor, Dave. Jim wants to give Dave the benefit of doubt, but as chairman of his church board Jim feels duty-bound to confront him. But as he begins to explore his pastor's private life, will be be able to handle the truth that he uncovers?

My Review:

What a tangled web I read. ..Wow.

Fallen grabbed me immediately and did not let go until the final silken strand. Matthew Raley has written a book that may need to become part of seminary curriculum. Maybe Fallen should be required reading for elder or deacon boards. Without heavy discussions regarding theological ideology, or overwhelming use of scripture, Raley manages to wind the reality of truth around cheap grace, religiousity, legalism, licentiousness, grace, forgiveness and accountability. And pride gets the life sucked out of it.

Two male characters from different circumstances and generations interact with affection, wariness, concern and pain. I found myself agonizing with Raley's main character ,Jim while he got more entangled with his own thoughts as well as the series of facts and perceived realities. I have been Jim, and I dare say I've been a Dave.

I know many will think this is a story about dangerous pastors, but don't miss the point that wound its way around my heart. Our lives are woven and God doesn't miss a stitch. He'll use whatever means to make sure my life is one that glorifies Him. No matter how painful or costly, God will shape the ones He loves and died for.

This story is overtly Christian. But with an honest look at religion vs. relationship and enough mind games to entice readers who don't claim Christianity but love cat and mouse games. I'd suggest it to anyone who has ever been burned in church politics, too.

Raley is a new author to watch. I'm looking forward going to get my hands on his next novel. I hope it will be soon.

Scribble and Scrambles - Squabbles and Labels

Lily and Lola have a typical sibling rivalry infested relationship. Lola is the smarter dog, she gets the tricks and loves to perform. She is obedient and she's manipulative. Lily is the snuffling attention, affection hog. Don't even try to bend over to pet Lola because you'll get a face full of Lily. Lily also has the tendency to wander and be distracted. Both have strengths and weaknesses and their qualities clash -- often.


Feral, the frolicking, fearless kitten runs roughshod over the timid Freckles. Interestingly, Freckles used to be the mean cat on the block. Why in the world would she let some little whippersnapper take over her world and the attention of her people? We'd love to see more of her, but she won't come out until he's no where to be seen.


And a few groups of sisters I happen to see often...well...shudder. I don't really want to go there with the details, but lets just say labels, issues and pecking order are set in concrete and not necessarily truth.



So how much should we allow circumstances or another person's strengths or weaknesses define us?

Here's another worthy goal in 2008. Let my yes be yes and my no be no and the person I answer to be God. I wonder how many things I'd do differently and how many changes would occur in the way I label myself.

How about you? Still wearing a label from childhood that doesn't fit and never has? What are you waiting for? I'll bet there are some people who'd love to see a little more of "you" if you'd just come out of hiding.

Scribbles and Scrambles - Falling Snow and Junk Yard Dogs

I have no idea why I'm inspired to write about snowflakes.

Why does the poetry bug bite?



The puppies are playing junkyard dog -- you know, the growling, snarling, fighting that siblings everywhere partake in. Except with 65 pound dogs, you don't allow it in the living room next to the cute little antique table with the Ming vase perched on top. Fortunately, the kids took care of my Ming years ago.

Ocean's Eleven blares from the living room. My Cheerios/Grape-Nuts bowl shares table space with my laptop, and I'm transfixed by the snow.

Velvet on Ice

Black velvet sky
No one does black velvet like God

Shards of ice bits
Swirling
Swooping
Floating

Each perfect
created
individual

Being what
Doing all
that it was created for

Covering filth
Blanketing brokenness

Glorifying the Creator
Floating like grace
Covering dead and dying

Painting a picture
of redemption
on living black velvet

Scribble and Scrambles - Keys !!!!

How many hours of my life have I invested in key hunts?

I don't actually want to know.

Tonight, after retracing my steps no less than three full times with lots of detours for "what-if" scenarios, I broke down and called the store I had visited an hour earlier.

My keys had been found in the parking lot.

How they ended up in the parking lot is a mystery. I could picture them stuck in the door (it's happened to more than one member in my household), on the back of the toilet, turned into puppy toys, even chilling in the refrigerator before I'd guess they actually fell out of my pocket and into a snowy parking lot.

Our youngest daughter got us clapper key chains for Christmas a few years ago. They went off with laughter, loud conversation and when the phone rang. Nice idea.

But not so practical.

How about a body/key buddy-snap? A surgically attached snap that connects owners to key chain.

Double duty -- cool piercing with serious time saving smarts -- win-win.

Hey, if anyone invents it can I suggest a name?

Snap! (said with attitude.)

Okay. Okay. What do you expect an hour and a half past my bedtime?

Scribble and Scrambles - Grandmotherisms

Kim's comment from yesterday's "I Love My Job" post cracked me up.

In honor of my grandmother's recent 90th birthday, I think I'll share a few of my favorite grandmother moments.

My poor grandma has taught me how to knit and crochet at least a dozen times. Unfortunately, none of what she taught me stuck. However, I do remember her "Good Night!" whenever a kid did something naughty. Shudder. A "Good Night!" from Grandma guaranteed a very bad night indeed.

Popcorn flowed at Grandma's house. I can't look at a stainless steel mixing bowl without thinking of Carol Burnett, popcorn, and Grandma.

Grandma still likes to laugh at my expense over my honey faux pas. She handed me a container of honey and a saucer and asked me to put the honey in the saucer. This was my grandma, so I decided to take her request literally. I wondered but didn't ask while I poured the honey into the shallow dish. Apparently, she wanted me to set the container of honey into the saucer since the honey decanter dribbled.

My other grandma, Grandma V.would be thrilled that she died at 92 because she hated odd years. Of course, Grandma was really looking forward to heaven, too, so that could have been part of the motivation.

Grandma V. focused less on domestic training and more on...well, life's big issues.

I don't recall a conversation with Grandma V without her asking about my bowels. Grandma was a nurse and apparently bowel regularity was stressed in nursing school.

I also learned the value of proper lifting of heavy objects, or even better, letting my mother lift things instead. After all, Mom already had children and her uterus, if it ruptured, was expendable.

Finally, I'll never forget Grandma V's favorite horror story. The Boy Who Ate Green Apples...and DIED! I'm not sure what the moral of that story was, but I sure controlled myself around green apples after that. I kind of wish she'd used chocolate as the deadly vice. Oh well.

Scribble and Scrambles - I Love My Job

I made the mistake of asking my oldest daughter for a subject to blog about.

She suggested..."My Life as a Proctologist."

Fortunately, blogging about my life as a proctologist will be pure fiction or rambling, so I think I'm up (or down) for it.

As an x-ray technician, I get plenty of patient caregiver intimacy. Arm's length and I am glad of it. For a few seconds I considered going further into nursing, but then I remembered nursing requires involvement in bodily functions. In x-ray, at least in my realm of limited x-ray, I deal with breathing, some conversation, a few laughs, an occasional cough and a very rare sneeze.

I don't need to tell you that proctology doesn't exactly appeal to me, do I?

Other jobs I'm pretty sure I don't envy:

Refuse Collection (Trash Chick)

Sewage Plant Worker

Reptile Herder

Rocky Mountain Oyster Collector

Snake Milker

Any job ever appearing on Dirty Jobs including that of the host.

After running this little essay past my daughter she tells me I passed her test. I feel better.

In case you are curious, proctology is not recognized in the blogger dictionary.

Maybe all the other bloggers need to use it more often.

Just a thought.

Scribble and Scrambles - Driven by Drama?

Used to be that drama was saved for the page or stage.

Now its wherever you choose to look.

Why?

Back in the day, when I embraced drama, I sought the flutter of life. If I could feel something -- anything -- the sensation proved I was alive. Fully, functionally or painfully alive.

Of course, I preferred the positive drama like great news or passionate love or success. But if those failed to come through for me, weeping worked too and ofttimes drew people into my drama -- which seemed a good thing. Who wants to cry alone?

As I've matured I've become suspicious of drama and for the most part unmoved. Oh, Hollywood can squeeze a drop or two from my tear ducts. But that's not tough, I've been known to cry during commercials.

The things that now infuse me with the sensations of life are flash frozen moments of connectedness with someone. Making eye contact across the room with a loved one and knowing exactly what he or she is thinking. A touch. An inside joke. Shared thoughts over struggles and sorrows, or triumphs and joys. Wonder and awe over the immensity and minutia of creation.

Does society's drama addiction stem from lack of connectedness? An "always on the phone but no one's listening" kind of a thing.

Do the majority of our relationships lack the sensation of life, having become parallel -- headed in the same direction but not intersecting?

Feeling a little dead inside and the writers strike is getting really old? Reality television or the parade of dysfunctional starlets starting to make you feel queasy?

Look up, look left and then right. Is there someone on your path you need to connect with?